Mayakovsky's poem on the death of Sergei Yesenin

The poem "Sergei Yesenin" was written after the death of the poet. "The end of Yesenin grieved, grieved, usually, humanly ... I learned about it at night, the grief, it must have remained grief, it should have been scattered by morning ..." - Mayakovsky shared his feelings. You have gone, As they say, Into another world.

As simply as to the living, Mayakovsky addresses the deceased Yesenin at the beginning of the poem. And the name itself is more suitable for a friendly message than for an epitaph.

Mayakovsky and Yesenin lived at the same time, at a turning point in history, both were carrying the burden of an "era of change". But there are no more different poets, each had its own, inimitable manner of writing. Only four years will pass, and Mayakovsky himself will put "the bullet point at the end of the path." Perhaps he realized that "to make life" and he failed. Or maybe he decided that he did it wrong. This is the tragedy of both great poets.

Vladimir Mayakovsky

Sergey Yesenin

You have gone, as they say, into another world.

Emptiness…

Fly, crashing into the stars.

No advance payment to you, no pub.

Sobriety.

No, Yesenin, this

not a mockery.

In the throat

woe is lumpy -

not a laugh.

I see -

with a cut hand stirring, own

bones

swing the bag.

- Stop it!

Give it up!

Are you out of your mind?

Give to cheeks

flooded

deadly chalk ?!

Do you

such

were able to bend that the other

in the world

could not.

Why?

What for?

Perplexity crumpled.

Critics mutter:

- This fault

then ...

yes ...

and most importantly, there is little bow, as a result

a lot of beer and wine. -

Say, would you replace

bohemian

class, the class influenced you, and there would be no time for fights.

Well, and the class is

thirst

pours kvass?

Class - he too

drink is not a fool.

Say, I would attach to you

which of the posts -

steel b

content

very gifted.

You would

in a day

wrote

lines of a hundred, tiresome

and as long as Doronin.

But in my opinion, come true

such nonsense, on myself

laid hands earlier.

It's better

to die from vodka than from boredom!

Will not open

us

reasons for loss

no noose, no penknife.

Maybe turn out

ink at Angleterre, Vienna

cut

there would be no reason.

The imitators were delighted:

bis!

Above myself

almost a platoon

inflicted reprisals.

Why then

increase

the number of suicides?

It's better

increase

making ink!

Forever and ever

Now

tongue

it will shut up in the teeth.

Heavy

and inappropriate

breed mysteries.

The people, the language-maker, died

voiced

reckless journeyman.

And carry

poems for the deceased scrap, from the past

from the funeral

almost not altered.

Into the hill

stupid rhymes

drive with a stake -

isn't that so

poet

should be honored?

You

and the monument has not yet been merged, -

where is he, bronze ringing

or granite edge? -

and to the lattices of memory

already

incurred

dedications

and memories of rubbish.

Your name

melted in handkerchiefs, your word

slobbering Sobinov

and outputs

under a dead birch -

"Not a word, oh my friend, not bang-oh-oh-oh-ha."

Eh, it would be different to talk

with this

with Leonid Lohengrinich!

Stand up here

thundering brawler:

- I will not let it

mumble a verse

and crush! -

Stun would

their

three-fingered whistle

to grandma

and a mother's soul to God!

To spread

talentless trash, fanning

darkness

jacket sails to

scattered

scattered Kogan, met

mutilation

whisker peaks.

Rubbish

for now

thinned out a little.

A lot of things to do -

just keep up.

It is necessary

a life

redo first, redo -

can be chanted.

This time -

hard to write, but tell me

you cripples and cripples, where, when, what great one chose

path to be trodden

and lighter?

Word -

general

human strength.

March!

So that the time

behind

cores were torn.

To the old days

so that the wind

attributed

only

tangle of hair.

For fun

our planet

little equipped.

It is necessary

to snatch

joy

the days to come.

In this life

die

not difficult.

Make life

much more difficult.

1926 year